After two hours looking every single detail of the photos we both were more frustrated than before. There was no clue in those photos we haven’t examine, talked about it, analyzed it. Our imagination had worked far beyond science fiction and we both had recall everything we had learned from all the detective stories we had read or watched on TV without any result.

And the more time we spent looking at the photos the more we both had the feeling that there was something wrong there but there was no way to point out what was that. After our third or fourth coffee Leena felt tired and she decided to go for shopping to the mall in Vuosaari leaving me alone with a new coffee in front of me and three photos with Fetah looking at me.

I decided to take a break and check on the news but it was lake there was the conspiracy of misery attacking me. there was not a single thing I wanted to read a bit more or give an extra note. Death, war and people suffering in every page I checked. Even the smiles of presidents and prime minsters in some photos looked so fake. I felt very tired. In the Finnish news the racists’ party was earning more points for the coming national elections and the face of Ferah was there all the time in front of me.

And then it was Alexei walking in the centre of Helsinki laughing and talking with Ferah’s sister, the very same sister who was with him the time Ferah was murdered; the very same sister who collected every single thing that Ferah had touched in the house she lived with Alexei and took them with her. The very same sister who was holding Alexei’s hand, the very same sister who looked so much like Ferah. And if that was not enough there were all the stories Seppo had told me about marrying a woman from middle east, a Muslim woman.

Working occasionally for NGO and having participated in a campaign against women’s circumcision I had faced the problems the Muslim identity was bringing to those people and actually most of these problems had nothing to do with their fait and Islam it mainly had to do with old and often pagan traditions that had been embraced by the people who representing the faith. And that is something that Islam doesn’t monopolize but it is common in all religions and it has mainly to do with education and the unfortunate fanatism of some followers.

In Finland there is an Imam and there is a short of council that takes care inner religious issues but there was more than a rumour that there was a council with strict rules that had more than power over the sometimes feeling isolated in a mainly Christian country Muslims. And unfortunately some of those rumours didn’t just leave ripples of worries but waves the size of a tsunami. And while working for the issue of women’s circumcision I often had to deal with messages coming from that invisible council occasionally threatening that I usually ignored.

But it was alright for me to ignore all the threats and all the messages and warnings but it wasn’t the same for my partner in that work. The Somali girl that often accompanied me in those speeches after a few months she said that she couldn’t continue and actually she was planning to move abroad where her brother lived. I was shocked and amazed because she had a really good job, she had studied in Finland and she was fluent since she had spent most of her life in this country. Actually most of the time she was feeling more Finn than Somali with her memories from the mother country very few and her language skill alive only because of her family and Somali friends. The only thing that separated her the Finns were her dark eyes and the black hair. A week before leaving and after a lot of pressure from me she admitted that the threats she was receiving by helping me and all the cause had overwhelmed her especially after they started reaching friends and family and since she was not willing to give up things gone so bad she had to move and that without really explaining what bad meant and leaving my imagination to fill the gaps.

But I couldn’t believe that marrying a Christian Russian could lead to murder even though it was not long ago I had read about a case with a Kurdish family in Sweden that actually ended up to a murder. I returned to Fetah’s photos but nothing there seemed to say anything about a murder that has to do with family or religious issues. I don’t know perhaps in my mind a hate crime or a crime to do with some kind of religions carries the necessary symbolisms or at least that I was expecting to see and there were no symbols or symbolisms in those photos. Actually there was nothing at all murderous except the …murdered woman. But then again as we had realized before this was not the murder spot. Whoever had killed her had moved her there. But why there?

The place was easy to spot and there was traffic all during the day and the night, they wanted her to be found and they didn’t calculate well what they were doing? Over thirty years ago a professor at the university had told me that the right thing is not to find the answers but the right questions. And somehow I didn’t seem to find the right questions. Why to move her here? That was a question but still didn’t seem the right one. Why to move her at all? That made in a very peculiar way sense. So why did they move her? Did it really matter where we found her? I checked again the photos. No! it didn’t matter at all, it was just a woman laying dead on the grass. It’s exactly what I thought before, there was nothing wrong with the picture except the murdered woman. So why did they move her?

My first reaction was to call Pekka, but I had nothing to say and nothing specific I wanted to ask so I let my phone down and returned to the picture. No traces around the body so they hadn’t pulled her over the grass, somebody had carried her there and just put her on the grass. Somebody aware what he or she was doing and sober enough to carry the woman’s body a distance. A distance? What distance? According to everybody including the doctor who had examined her body, Fetah had finished her work a few minutes before murdered. So what ever had happened had happened somewhere around there. But no surprise till now, Pekka had come to the same conclusions probably and as usual I was one kilometre at least behind him.

It couldn’t be kilometres and why a woman couldn’t have killed Fetah? Why every time I was referring to her murder I was talking about him and never about her and why I was always using the term they? Once more the picture of Alexei and Ferah’s sister came to my mind. So I picked the phone and called Pekka, just to find out if he had any news.